


the winter

by bluebeholder



Series: the accidental epic [43]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Baking, Baking With Accurate Recipes, Christmas, F/M, Kissing With Accurate Mistletoe, M/M, Owls, Writing With Accurate Owls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder
Summary: Winter rolls around the Northern Hemisphere, and the Suitcase Family celebrates the snow.A vignette for each romantic pair.





	the winter

**Author's Note:**

> Three vignettes for the Suitcase Family, in December of 1930. Written separately, but honestly these all belong together AND they’re Accidental Epic-compliant. So here you go! eldritch-archivist, ghosttheconfusedteenager, and kulapti were responsible for the prompts.
> 
> Positive is the source of Jacob’s recipe! Thank you, delicious friend! <3
> 
> Kulapti asked for Newt and Tina encountering an epic snowy owl migration like the one that happened this past winter. But you know what I ended up finding? Yeah. There REALLY WAS a giant migration south in EXACTLY THE YEAR WE NEEDED. Kudos and congratulations! Snowy owls periodically migrate south, FAR south and out of their usual range, in *droves.* Nobody knows precisely why, but we just had one this past year, and there was one in 1930!

London is cold and snowy in the winter, driving everyone inside. The bakery is a riot of color and warmth, drawing crowds hungry for warm confections and pastries to ward off the winter chill. Jacob would think that Queenie’s tired of baked goods, but when he suggests that he make one of his grandmother’s recipes that he’s never made before, she’s enthusiastic. “How could I say no to a secret like this?”

Jacob makes it two days before Christmas, when he closes the bakery. Though neither he nor Queenie are really for celebrating the holiday, they’re quite happy to light some candles and stay in and eat a nice dinner anyway. Millie and Hubert have the week off, and the last Jacob heard of it was that they were going to visit relatives at Hogwarts Castle.

He chops almonds, walnuts, and hazelnuts, and mixes them with raisins and figs. There’s cinnamon in the cake, and Jacob maybe adds a little more than he was planning because Queenie likes it so much. It can be baked ahead, so they don’t eat it until Christmas proper. They have Ollivander over for dinner the night before, but the day of it’s just the two of them.

“Tina and I were never ones for celebrating,” Queenie says. She looks a little distant, as she always does when her past comes up. “Our parents never did and it always felt a little wrong. Didn’t celebrate nothing else, because we never really knew how or why, but…”

“I ain’t celebrated since I got into the Expeditionary Force,” Jacob says with a shrug. He’d missed the legendary first Christmas of that war, and by the time the Americans got there nobody was really thinking much about holidays. And after…well, he hadn’t been thinking then either. “So don’t call it Christmas, call it a snow day. Anyway, we’ve got cake.”

He cuts them both a slice and they sit by the window to eat, watching the snow fall over Diagon Alley. It’s delicious, nutty and cinnamon-y. Queenie practically inhales hers and Jacob entertains her by feeding her bites of his. It’s a good day, maybe even a perfect one.

 

***

 

“What a gorgeous bird,” Tina says, eyes round.

Newt, carefully holding the huge Snowy Owl on his leather-gloved hand, hides a smile behind its feathers. “Don’t touch, it might bite.”

“Someday, we’re going to find an animal that doesn’t just fix on you as the best of all humankind,” Tina grumbles.

They’ve snuck into America, to this tiny village of Wolverine in northern Michigan, to witness the alarming Snowy Owl migration. They’re coming south in droves, in numbers rarely seen south of the Canadian border. They had come down from Canada, indeed, and they were going back through when they left. For now, though, Wolverine is small enough that no one is going to notice Newt and Tina.

Everyone else in this town is celebrating Christmas, but Newt and Tina are neither ones for celebrations with lights and baubles. Tina has told Newt the whole story of their lost family, so he understands, and he doesn’t mind at all. He never saw much point to Christmas when one wasn’t going to church, anyway.

Snow is plenty magical all on its own, though. No one needs a holiday for that. It sifts down on them, blanketing their hats and the shoulders of their coats, settling in drifts all around the trees. And the Snowy Owl is as magical as any “really magical” bird. It sits majestically on Newt’s hand, wholly unconcerned with him, gazing off with golden eyes. It had only taken minor coaxing with a nice mouse to convince the owl to hop onto Newt’s hand, and now it shows no signs of going anywhere.

Tina sidles around to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. “It’s really gorgeous,” she murmurs. “You say that students at Hogwarts can have these for pets?”

“Magically bred for greater intelligence, but yes,” Newt says. He slips his free hand into Tina’s. “I still like your pigeons rather more as mail-carriers. They don’t bite quite as hard.”

“We’ve all got our opinions,” Tina says loftily. She pauses. “…are you planning to take this bird off around the world with us?”

Newt laughs quietly. “No, I’m not,” he says. “When she wants to go, she will.”

So they stand there in the snow, watching the owl, and waiting for her to fly away.

 

***

 

“I do not understand why Newt is making such a production out of this,” Percival says. “Tina and Queenie don’t celebrate Christmas, I hear Newt himself doesn’t bother, I sincerely doubt Jacob does…”

“I do, but not with…pagan stuff,” Credence says, standing by the kitchen table looking into the package Newt had sent by Snowy Owl. “It’s a solemn evening, not…this.”

Percival starts arranging a pile of holly, multiplied from a single sprig from the box, on the windowsill. “I’m fairly sure you and I have enough solemnity for the entire rest of the year.”

“This is joyful solemnity,” Credence says, rolling his eyes. He picks up a delicate glass ornament and holds it up, watching it spin in the light. “It’s the birth of Christ. That’s the gift of the season, not material goods…”

“I never celebrated No-Maj holidays at all. But I think Newt just wants us to have fun.”

Credence can’t deny the small thrill of the little ornaments. “We should go look for a tree.”

They have to go out in the snow, but they find one in the end. The tree is small and looks lovely when decorated with the glass ornaments and strings of popcorn. They spend the evening drinking eggnog, taking turns reading “A Christmas Carol”. Percival does all the voices. Credence tries, but fails so spectacularly that he leaves Percival roaring with laughter, and Credence just ends up pelting Percival with leftover popcorn while he laughs himself.

Afterwards Percival irritably bundles up to go out and clear the roof, to prevent it from collapsing on them. While he’s gone, Credence catches sight of something left in the box. It makes him smile, and the note attached from Tina—“USE WISELY!”—makes him laugh. He saves it until Percival is back inside, a little giddy.

“Come in here, would you,” Credence says, lingering in the doorway.

Percival turns, unwrapping his scarf and dropping it over the back of the chair. “Let me get my coat off,” he protests mildly.

“No, hurry up,” Credence says. Percival comes but stops in the doorway and gives Credence a quizzical look. In reply, Credence only points up. Percival looks, and he laughs.

“Mistletoe? Really?”

“’Tis the season,” Credence says, and, bracing his arms on the doorframe, leans down a bit to kiss Percival. There’s cold snow on Percival’s coat, and the wind is still rattling the windows, but truly…this is a merry Christmas.


End file.
